Never Knew You Until Today
by JewhawkLover
Summary: Rachel and Santana hate each other,but these girls have more to offer and share then they may think. The story of how Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez became friends...or more. MATURE for language and future sexual situations.
1. Chapter 1: Daughters

**SUMMARY:** It was no secret that Rachel and Santana never really got along. You could ask anyone in Glee Club or at McKinley High about just that. So, how is it that the two came to become friends? After confessing her sexual preferences to her parents, Santana found herself kicked out of her house with no job, no money and nowhere else to go to. Her pride wouldn't allow her to go to Brittany and, well, she didn't really have any other friends she could trust with this. Even Quinn wasn't really reliable considering her new…look. Santana found herself sleeping in the auditorium and using the lockers to ready herself. Knowing that Berry was the overly prepared dork that she was, Santana made sure to be out of there by 7am. One day her alarm decided that it didn't want to work anymore and Santana overslept. When Rachel finds the Latina without anywhere else to go, she reluctantly offers her home and her secrecy in exchange for a few things. What was that? Respect in her home. She could go on pestering her at school, but she demanded to be called Rachel, or Ray as Santana prefers to call her. The other request was that Santana talks to her fathers about the ordeal. What happens when the two slowly open up to the idea of being friends?

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><p>If Santana was like every other girl her age, this would be where she cried. This would be where she would run to her friends, her M.I.A. friends, for help. This would be where she drowned herself in her sorrow until she managed to fall asleep. But, that's the thing, Santana wasn't like most girls her age. This girl was a professional when it came to building up walls and burying her emotions beneath them. That's exactly what she would do: bury them so deep that people would begin to question if she had any. Santana leaned her head against the abnormally cold window siding as she eyed the way the heavy droplets pounded against the unwilling, leaf-coated pavement. She couldn't help but appreciate the irony of the weather this early Sunday morning. Brittany had chosen Artie, and normalcy, over her again. By now, Santana wondered why she was even surprised anymore. She wondered even more about why she even cared. Brittany found it difficult to decide between breakfast cereals, so why would picking a team be quicker, easier? Even she couldn't really pick a team. Or, rather, she wasn't really sure about what team she was playing for. <em>'God, I hate labels,'<em> a frustrated Santana thought to herself. Santana traced shapes onto the window as she let her mind wander over the entire situation. With Quinn gone for the summer, she couldn't even make plans to somehow make up with the freshly cut blond and settle in for some shopping therapy. (Though, she really wondered if Quinn was even away, since rumours had been spreading about her dating some 30 year old biker dude.) There was no way she could go to Puck for anything other than a fuck and she couldn't even get that from him anymore since he was still dating Zizes. _Freakin' cow._ No rhyme intended. She was alone for this one. Even going to Porcelain and Warbler seemed like way too big of a leap on a downward social spiral that Santana was still unwilling to take. She would just have to bury this down deep, and hope that it would just go away.

Santana considered the possibility of going through her phonebook for a little distraction. Luckily, she would only have to bare this for a bit longer. School was starting soon and she would be able to be surrounded by her fellow Glee Club members. She would never admit it, but being around them made her feel like she had actual friends instead of just questionable popularity…  
>The light rapping at her door pulled her away from the window and forced her glance to pass on the doorway and its visitor. "Como te sientes, mija? Te vez triste," Maria, Santana's mother, said in a way that would have convinced anyone that this concern was of the norm, which it truly wasn't. 'How do I feel?' Santana translated the question in her mind and it still didn't make any sense. How do you answer a question like that? Actually, how does someone answer that when all they want to say is 'bitch, please?' She managed to keep herself from showing that signature eye roll, which would surely earn her a slap upside the head. 'You look sad.' She was shocked that the woman had managed to step out of her own world long enough to even notice. It took all of her energy not to chuckle, and even more of it not to just kick her out of the room.<p>

"No, mami. Me siento bien. Me gusta mirar la lluvia. Es una cosa muy tranquilizante." Saying 'I'm fine' bilingually had become quite the habit these days. It was all she ever said anymore; such a lie that ever left her lips could be so grand. She was far from fine, far from okay, but she handled her own shit. The last thing she needed was for her mother to get involved. A false smile crept onto her face that could have, in any other situation, earned her a golden Emmy. Her mother, being the oblivious parental figure she was, accepted her daughter's answer and walked toward her.  
>"Okay, mija." She leaned down and embraced her daughter, leaving Santana very uncomfortable.<p>

Since Santana's mom retired from the law firm, or rather since it was forcefully suggested to her that she retire after an incident with a copy boy, she had made a habit of reading parenting books. This week's chapter was 'how affirming your daughter at home could prevent promiscuity, teenage pregnancy, drug habits, and help with higher SAT scores.' Considering that Santana had already been de-virginized (credit due to Puck), had a pregnancy scare, learned to be a birth control pro, loved to 'get her drank on,' and was a senior who had taken the SAT in her junior year, it was definitely a little late for all that. "How did I get so blessed with such a dutiful daughter?" Choosing to give Santana, who learned most of her Spanish from her nanny rather than her parents, a break from all the Spanish, Maria decided to switch over to her English for a while. _I just don't know. Guess my nanny did a good job of raising me, huh? Surprised you even know where my room is bitch… _Santana just smiled silently as her internal rant continued, not really knowing what to say that wouldn't be filled with venomous sarcasm. "I love you, mija." Maria finally let her daughter go.

A sharp pain surged through her chest in a very sudden manner that mimicked lightening in many ways: sudden, rough, and resonating. She had wanted to hear those words so desperately as a child that it overwhelmed her to hear it now. She had grown accustomed to hearing it on holidays or special occasions, sometimes after the occasional Lifetime movie or novella that her mother watched and was moved by, but hearing it so randomly definitely caught her off guard. "You too," was all she could muster up. "You ready for church?" Santana spoke quickly to change the subject. Her mother nodded and held her hand out to drag the teenager along.

* * *

><p>Rachel woke up early that morning, the way she did every morning. When it came to staying on a schedule, she was definitely a professional. She started every morning off with a protein shake, a good workout, a facial treatment, vocal practice, dance practice and a healthy lunch. Yes, that was only the morning. Though she lacked an extensive social life, Rachel made sure to keep herself busy over the summer. Most of her morning came to a close at around 12 to 2pm, because that's when Finn would finally get up. She loved him dearly, so she refused to mock his lack of structure when it came to his summer activities. For the most part, easing off of him when it came to that was no struggle. However, dealing with his teenage male antics when he finally awoke took a little more restraint than she had.<p>

"What the! Mother-"

"Finn Hudson!" Rachel didn't even give Finn a chance to finish his much needed vulgarity. Without looking back, he mumbled its completion under his breath and readjusted his hold of the PS3 controller as Puck let out a snicker or two.

This is what her afternoons consisted of: watching Finn and Puck play their video games, while she tried to find something to talk about with Lauren. What made today a bit more difficult to handle was the fact that she had woken up extra early to finish by eleven, so she could drive Finn to Puck's place for a Mortal Kombat marathon. His car had been taken away by Kurt for his romantic picnic with Blaine; something Kurt just wouldn't stop texting her hated video games and she only hated violent video games more, though she found herself oddly attracted to the character Kitana. Rachel blamed it on the character's composure while faced with burly men and confrontational situations. They were such a waste of valuable time in her opinion, but she got to spend time with Finn. That was enough for her, or, rather, it usually was enough.

"As I was saying-" Lauren threw her hand up toward Rachel in a silencing manner and pointed to the screen with the other.

"Berry, shut that pie hole of yours. I'm trying to figure out what technique to use so I can kick both of these punk ass boys' asses," Lauren spoke in that intimidating tone that actually made Rachel miss Quinn and Santana. At least they were lady-like about their insults. There was more of a banter in their statements and it was good practice for when she found a rival on the Broadway scene.

"I was just going to sa-" Lauren shoved Rachel off of the bed with one hand before she could finish her discussion on the only video game she had ever really attempted to play, Singstar. Rachel hit the floor with a loud and echoing thud, laying in her pooling defeat. The worst thing that anyone could ever do to Rachel was not let her finish speaking. That, and hit the nose.

"Finn, are you just going to let her push me around like that!" Rachel opted to try getting Finn's assistance with the situation. Considering Lauren's size and wrestling background, it seemed safer to ask for help than to actually take her on by herself. As she stood from the floor and adjusted her skirt, Rachel noticed that the high school jock had stayed silent. "Finn!" She practically growled the name, catching Puck's attention instead of Finn's.

"She's a chick, Rach." Finn spoke in a drone-like manner without taking his eyes off of the screen. Puck, instead, paused the Mortal Kombat match and turned around toward the girls.

"Beautiful, take it easy on Berry. She's not as tough as you, my little jelly-filled doughtnut." With that, he turned back toward the screen and started the match again.

Rachel silently shook her head and sat back down on the bed with a nostalgic sigh, counting the number of days until school started in her head. She couldn't wait and not just because it meant that she wouldn't have to watch the boys play all day. This would be her senior year, which meant that she had one last chance to make a name for herself in high school before she went onto New York. It also meant that she would soon be able to see her fellow Glee Clubbers, who she missed dearly.

Her eyes met the window and she noticed that the rain had only gotten worse since this morning. Most people would find the rainfall to be depressing, but Rachel always saw it a fresh beginning, a clean slate. A car flew by in the rain and she could have sworn that she had seen Santana in the backseat. Realizing that she might even be missing Santana Lopez, Rachel shook her head with a slight chuckle and turned back toward the screen like any dutiful girlfriend would do.  
>Lauren leaned down toward Puck and whispered; "Now the bitch is laughing to herself…"<p>

* * *

><p>The Lopez family arrived at church around 11:30 am. Santana's parents always liked to get there thirty minutes before the service so they could mingle with the congregation. She never really talked to anyone. Mostly because they only people that showed up early were the old fucks. She walked around the church aimlessly like she always did and found herself pausing at the entrance to the doors into the worshipping part of the cathedral. Santana cringed at the huge statue of Jesus that hung over the altar.<p>

She remembered staring at the statue with the same amount of fear after her first time having sex. Santana was only a 13 year old freshman and, while she was usually fearless, she was a bit frightened by it. The thought didn't dwell in her mind for too long that day, though. She remembered her mind shifting to the fact that she still hadn't gotten her panties back from Puck. _What the fuck? I never did get them back…_ She shook the thought from her head and focused back on the statue. It always felt like it was staring at her with pure judgment. Santana didn't feel that way about Jesus, just the statue. She may not have been the most religious person, but she had her own sense of spirituality. It was something that she would never admit to, because of her reputation as a fearless bitch. Her eyes stayed locked onto the statue again, as if it would somehow shout her out for her "indecencies." She couldn't help but wonder why she would be struck down for messing around with girls if she hadn't dealt with any repercussions for fooling around with guys.

"Who let those dikes into the church?" The statement uttered by her approaching uncle caused Santana to whip around so quickly that she almost knocked over the elderly woman behind her. She could feel the blood rushing away from her face, leaving her with an almost ghostly complexion. Only when she realized that Uncle Fernando wasn't talking about her, did the colour return to her face and the tense stance she was in begin to relax. It wouldn't be a feeling that she enjoyed for too long though.

"It's disgusting," Cristobal, Santana's father, added almost immediately. "Do they realize this is a holy place?" Santana looked up at her father, who towered over her, and tilted her head a bit. If Brittany could see him like this, she would understand why it was so hard for her to just come out, especially since she had no idea if she was really a lesbian or 'simply' bisexual. _'Like there is anything simple about this,'_ she thought. She still had no idea where the two men were looking, but she wasn't too upset about missing the sight. If she didn't see it, she wouldn't have to comment on it. That was more than okay with her. When Santana felt the two men looking at her, she turned toward them and read the look on their faces. They wanted her to add something, to agree, to somehow prove her 'Christianity' by condemning two women who could be exactly like her. She reluctantly looked out toward the couple and practically punched herself mentally as she spoke.

"It's a sin…," she uttered in an unsure manner. Her father placed his hand on her shoulder with that proud look on his face and Santana felt herself cringe along with the rising nausea in her stomach. He finally shows his 'orgullo' in her and it was for a lie that made her feel disgusted with herself.

"Don't judge, lest ye be judged," Father Pablo came up from behind Santana with his memorable, thick Mexican ranchero accent and pressed his hand to her back. "It's not our place to put a judgment on others, Sanny." Though he had a disciplinary tone in his words, Santana felt a security and just the slightest hint of hope in them as they left his mustache covered lips. She couldn't show it, but she was smiling inwardly at the idea of someone's compassion, someone's acceptance. "Whatever you say, Padre."


	2. Chapter 2: Together We Cry

**SUMMARY:** Santana gets to be head cheerio, but her celebrating is cut short by a very upset ex-co-captain, Becky. She finds herself kicked out of the house and running to an unlikely place for shelter. Finn has Rachel help him thumb through school pamphlets and his future only seems cloudier. Things get awkward between the couple as sex becomes a heated topic.

* * *

><p>Love. At first glance, it seems simple enough. 'I love you, therefore I will never hurt you and I will always care about you.' It never stays that simple though. In its true nature, it is complex and usually leads to pain. Using the L word and dealing with its subsequent emotions was risky. Santana was a smart girl, so she understood this. (Actually, she lived this.) She may not have let the world know it, like Man-hands and Porcelain, but she was pretty damn intelligent. Every time she weighed the possible consequences with the possible benefits of coming out to her parents, the pros always came up short to the cons. Brittany just didn't understand. Santana came from a strict Roman Catholic family. They wouldn't be able to handle the fact that she had been having sex since she was 13, let alone that she had been having sex with Brittany for a good while. Some of the things that Cris had said about homosexuals in the past made even Santana, with her notoriously vulgar vocabulary, blush the highest quality of red. Despite her parents' new habit of saying 'I love you' to the teenage Latina, Santana knew that they would be less than receptive to the truth about her friendship with Brittany. She wouldn't be surprised if they just kicked her out and disowned her without feeling the slightest bit of remorse. Even if Santana was willing to take all the possible consequences, it's not like Brittany would really appreciate it. They were back to being friends, just friends. It's as if Santana had never confessed her feelings for the girl. Even when Mr Schue, who totally overreacted, kicked her out of glee club, Brittany didn't exactly come to her defense. Warbler didn't either, even though she had expected some type of loyalty after the whole Karofsky situation. Either way, Santana expected Brittany to have some kind of protest. Sometimes she felt like she gave Brittany too much credit. It was those little moments of frustration that were slowly helping her to get over the blonde cheerio.<p>

Santana glanced down at her list again that held the pros and cons of coming out as she walked home from school. She wrote the word happiness on the pro side and circled it several times._ 'If I came out, I could get back in Glee like now. I mean they needs meh,'_ Santana thought to herself as the sway of her cheerio skirt popped into her peripheral. Her eyes traced the outline of her cursive writing, truly unsure of what she should do.

Santana was finally head cheerio. Her last piano explosion plan came through beautifully, leaving Becky as her co-captain no more. She should be feeling victorious, but she just wasn't. _'Glee,'_ she read the word aloud in her head. Why was it that one word could weigh so heavily against the ten on its opposing side? She crumbled up the sheet and threw the paper ball into the nearest trash can as she walked to her house. This debate had been going on too long and it just hadn't gotten any better. If anything, it had only given her a bigger headache. Seeing Brittany constantly and not being able to sing with the Glee Club didn't make anything easier either. Santana hated seeing her act as if nothing had changed. She tried not to focus on Brittany, but she couldn't help it. _Pathetic. Why would anyone want to feel like this?_ While she prided herself on not needing anyone, Brittany seemed to have become quite the exception. The only problem was that Brittany wouldn't be with her, unless she came out at school. She couldn't really do that until she came out to her parents.

Word travels fast in Lima. It would only be a matter of time before they found out from one of the parents of some WMHS student if she decided to follow through with Brittany's request. A drawn out sigh fell from Santana lips as she kicked a can that laid on the sidewalk in front of her house. "Fucking A," she muttered in an overtly frustrated tone. The only thing that kept her from completely losing it was the fact that she would soon be able to plop her ass down on her bed and nap her headache away. She wasn't quite sure why she was letting this bother her so much. If Brittany wasn't asking her to come out, would she even really be thinking about saying anything? Why should she rush into doing something that she just wasn't ready to do? She would never put this kind of pressure on the blonde. Santana saw her house coming up and decided to wipe the look of contemplation off of her face. She wasn't up for dealing with her mother questioning the look on her face today. Her nap was waiting for her and that's all she really wanted.

Before Santana could pull her keys out, her father had opened the door and forcefully pulled her into the house. She struggled to not fall over as she regained her balance from the rapid motion, regaining her composure only as the door's sudden slam. Santana whipped her head up toward her father. "What is it, papi?" She almost yelled the words out, but held back some of the question's initial irritation. The last thing she wanted to do was piss off the huge man beast.

"Don't you call me, papi. Malcriada!" Cristobal's eyes were all but bulging out of their sockets as he yelled at Santana at the top of his lungs. Even that vein on his forehead seemed to be scolding her as it protruded out of his head with a steady pumping. Santana stepped back from the surprise and an instant fear filled her. She wasn't one to scare easy, but the look of complete anger on her father's face was horrifying. She wasn't sure what she had done yet, and she almost didn't want to know. "Explain this, Santana." Cristobal chucked a photo at Santana that hit the ex-cheerio's body and fluttered to the floor. The image flashed at her with every spin. She didn't have to bend over to see it. It was all right there: a photo of her and Brittany at a summer party getting their lady kisses on in a more than merely playful fashion. Santana didn't know what to say. A picture is worth a thousand words and she couldn't find just one to give as a counter-argument. She didn't even have to ask how he got the photo. The elegantly written word 'Becky' was clearly visible on the photo's way down to the floor. Sylvester must have told Becky about Santana's sole head cheerio status. From the looks of it, she wasn't too happy about the news. As much as she wanted to just go after the girl, she had to attend to the angry Hispanic giant in front of her.

"Calm down, papi! It's…it's not as bad as you think. Just please…" Santana muttered out, still shocked from the whole encountered. Cristobal swiped his hand across the hallway table and chucked the vase that stood on it clear across the hall. It shattered against the wall and forced a shriek out of Santana the likes of which she had never made before. By this time, the girl was shaking. His hand alone was the size of her entire head. She could only imagine the type of damage they could do on her. Cristobal turned away from his daughter and started to breathe in deeply in a sorry attempt to calm himself down.

"Vete." One word. Leave. Most teenagers would have pleaded, but Santana was too proud and wouldn't stoop to begging to an intolerant asshole. First, Mr. Schue had told her to leave and now her own father was doing it. That was enough._ 'Men. If you don't cater to things the way they want you to, you get the fucking boot.'_ She won't beg, but she will sure as hell argue.

"You want me to leave? This is bullshit! I'm your fucking daughter!" The last thing on Santana's mind was refraining from vulgarities. Her only goal now was getting her father to accept her.

"You are not! You are not the daughter that I raised. You are a maldita! And I will not house some lesbian piece of shit!"

"Excuse me!" She yelled at the man who towered over her and showed her absolutely no pity. "Cuz your trifling ass is sooooo sin-free, right? You and your fucking whores. We're not stupid, puto! We know all about your cheating. You have no right to judge me!"

"GET! OUT!" Cris stepped closer to her and Santana was smart enough to know that it was time to leave.

"FINE! I don't fucking need you!" Santana punched the door open and stormed out of the house with nothing but her backpack. She could hear him yelling to her, but she chose to ignore it. She knew all the names he usually threw at girls like her. There was no need to hear them again. Hurt? Well, of course she was hurt. Santana isn't cold, but she isn't weak either. It was always easier for her to crawl to anger before she went to tears.

As she stormed down the sidewalk, Santana finally realized that she had nowhere to go. The first week of school proved that Quinn and San were still not on good terms and she held no type of friendly importance to the newly tattoo-ed 'skankette.' There was no way that she could stay at Brittany's house. She was more than sure that Cris had called the Pierce residence and shared the burden of his disappointment of a daughter. Puck was…Puck. His mother hated her for many reasons. (She was convinced that the woman was still upset about Santana's involvement in the creation of the infamous 'jewhawk'.) There was no way she could spend one night, let alone an indefinite amount of time, at the Puckerman residence. Santana still had Mr. Schuster's phone number, but he obviously didn't mean it when he said they could all count on him. Santana continued her walk down the blocks for thirty minutes before she passed the Berry residence. She rolled her eyes at Finn's car that was parked out front. _'Still not desperate enough,'_ she thought to herself and continued down. With nowhere else to go, McKinley seemed the safest bet. It would be getting dark soon and she'd be damned if she slept with the hobos.

* * *

><p>The school year didn't start off perfect for Rachel, but it was still slightly better than the rest of her years at McKinley. Even with the food fight, the burnt purple piano, the drone Rachels and Kurts that had been at the NYU event, and the loss of two of their better performers, Rachel was still hopeful and rebuilt. Kurt had helped her along and she just knew that Quinntana would come to their senses on their own terms and in their own time. Whether Quinn and Santana wanted to admit it or not, Rachel knew that they loved Glee Club as much as she did. They really were a family in her mind and that would be the thought that she held onto as Finn fumbled to decide what he wanted to be.<p>

"How about a mechanic?" Finn finally spoke and broke through Rachel's train of thought completely. She lifted her head and looked at him with a confused expression. She wasn't sure how many times she would have to go over this with him, but Rachel was determined to keep patient.

"Dreams of being a mechanic won't get you to New York, Finn." Finn had only recently decided that he wanted to head to New York with Rachel, but it seemed that he was constantly wavering back and forth. "How about a business degree? You can start your own shop in New York when you graduate. Or, you could even start up a music shop. I know how much you love the drums. Speaking of music, you could be a music teacher. Though I will admit that their income and benefits leave much to be desired, but you will have the summers off to do with what you wi-" The dazed look on Finn's face caught Rachel in the middle of her speech. It was rare for anything to keep Rachel from finishing a pep talk, but she could just tell that everything was going in one ear and out of the other. She loved Finn, truly, but sometimes his lack of focus frustrated her to new ends.

"I don't know, Rachel. That sounds like it would take a long time. I just want to get in and get out. Maybe something that will only take two years," Finn stumbled over his words as he thumbed through the packets.

"An Associate's."

"I don't even know…. What kind of career is that?"

"It's not a ca-…" She looked at him for a moment to see if he was kidding. He obviously wasn't.

"It's a two year degree and that won't do. It's barely any better than a high school diploma. Actually, receiving a Bachelor's isn't even a big deal anymore. Everyone seems to want Master's degrees from their employees. I suggest you ready yourself for at minimum six years of school, five if you work hard." The shocked look on Finn's face told Rachel to slow herself down before the poor boy gave in to a heart attack. "Look… It's going to be okay, Finn Hudson. You don't give yourself enough credit. You are a smart boy and you're going to be just fine. I'm going to help you the entire way." Rachel slid her hands over his and flashed him the most comforting smile that she could. The uneasy expression faded and soon there was a smile on Finn's face that matched Rachel's perfectly. He leaned over the table that wore a thick layer of pamphlets from New York colleges and pressed his lips to hers in that way that always signaled the commencement of an approaching make out session. Rachel pulled away with a hint of a smirk on her face. "Finn, focus."

"Oh, I'm trying to." Finn moved back in again, but Rachel gave in this time. Her father's weren't home and, well, she was only human. Actually, she was a teenager with more hormones than one could bare.

* * *

><p>After another fifteen minutes of walking, Santana found herself at McKinley. She made sure to avoid the campus cams that, because of a previous school prank, she knew were positioned at every corner of the school. Figgins was a bit of a stickler when it came to spending money, so San knew that he hadn't bought the expensive cams that rotated. Nope. He merely had regular mini cams taped to the wall with duct tape. It sucked for school security, but it made getting into McKinley a lot easier than sneaking into other high schools…not that San had snuck into Mt. Caramel to trash their auditorium or anything.<p>

San snuck behind a tree and eyed the two corner cams that guarded the back of the school. It had gotten a bit darker so San had some shadowing to hide behind. When she figured out the exact path that she needed to take, a signature smirk played at her full ruby lips. She walked over to the fence, climbing it all too easily. Her cheerio skirt fanned out as she jumped down from the fence, landing on the other side with bended knees in a Charlie's Angel-like pose. (Obviously, it had been playing on Cinemax that week.) Confident in her plan and calculations, Santana strutted right up to the back doors.

The back door was locked, of course. Santana half expected it to be, which is why she chose this entrance instead of the one in the front of the building. Coach Sylvester's office window was usually left open so that her office _"could air out the stench of loser that it gathered throughout the school day."_ San stuck to the wall as she made her way to the window. Careful not to scrape her uniform against the brick, she slid up to her window and glanced down. _Open. Perfect_. She gripped the bottom of the window and shoved it upward without any strain at all. Say what you will about cheerleading, but it definitely left San with some serious upper body strength without ending up with a Lauren-esque figure.

San slithered into the window, plopping onto the floor with a very loud and very painful thud. "Motherfucker!" Santana yelled out then quickly rushed her hands to cover her mouth in an attempt to silence herself, remembering where she was. She stayed still for a minute or two just to see if there had been some late night visitor that she had alerted of her presence. When there was no sound, with the exceptions of the left over echoes of her outburst, she pushed herself up from the floor and carefully exited the office. The last place San wanted to stay was in Coach Sylvester's office. She was anal and knew every inch of her office. If anything moved even the slightest bit, she would know someone had invaded her space. Santana knew better.

The safest place seemed to be the auditorium. There was a prop cot and blankets that she remembered spotting during last year's rehearsals. They would surely help her get through the night. _'The night,'_ San repeated the words in her head. She would be spending the night at McKinley. The fact that she had actually gotten kicked out of her house and was now seeking refuge in the only place that would take her was finally starting to settle in. It halted her stride a bit and, if you had seen her, it would look as if she might actually break down a bit. She didn't. Not being great with handling emotions, even her own and while alone, Santana opted to focus on the task at hand.

Before she even went to the auditorium, she had to make a stop. Santana walked down the eerily silent hallway that seemed only a ghostly representation of what it served as during the day. It was interesting to her. During the day, her newly earned crown meant so much. She had a kingdom and a reign. There was nothing to rule over now, not at night. It was all so temporary. Santana shook her head of her thoughts, swaying her pony tail from side to side. She needed to head to the girl's locker room before she did anything else. Showing up at school un-bathed tomorrow just wouldn't do.

Santana walked into the locker room. She left a gym bag in her locker with extra clothes that would come in handy now. It was a trick she picked up from Rachel and Kurt after she had experienced her first Sue Sylvester dirt bomb and Karofsky-delivered slushy. Santana flinched at the memory as she walked up to her locker and spun the combination in casually, as if nothing was wrong at all.

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><p>Rachel let out the tiniest bit of an accidental moan when Finn's lips worked on her neck. As per usual, he took that as a green light to try his hand at testing the waters with Rachel. Finn rolled Rachel over so that he was on top of her. She flinched at the sudden weight, but he quickly caught on and leveled his weight onto his arms. Grateful that he did, Rachel gave a playful smirk and pulled Finn into another kiss carefully so she wouldn't bite his already on the verge of bleeding lips. (She tended to get a little rough after a while of their make out sessions.) Finn slid his hand up her signature plaid skirt and played with the edging of her panties. Usually, he'd try to warm her up to the idea, but lately he had been becoming <em>'quite the eager beaver'<em> as Rachel put it. She didn't stop, but she moved her hand to grip at his and slid it back down. He trailed his kisses from her lips down her chin and neck until he arrived at that one spot that always got to her, right above the collar bone. He never quite hit it, but he always came frustratingly close. Rachel let his hand go and slid her finger tips into his hair, tugging at it a bit, trying to guide him to it. Finn took the opportunity to slide his hand back down again, slowly this time. She bit his lip rougher than he would have liked to give him the hint to stop.

"Ow!" His outburst actually jolted Rachel a bit. "Damn, Rach." He spoke plainly but sat up, pressing his hand to his lips to see if she had broken the skin. There was a sticky heat that he already knew was bloo, even without looking at the result on his fingertips. "A little rough with the biting there, babe." Rachel sat up and slid in closer to him, running her thumb over his bottom lip without an accidental seductive demeanor.

"I'm sorry. I get a little carried away sometimes," she spoke sheepishly as if her intention hadn't been to stop him. Finn smiled and shook his head, leaning back in toward her. Rachel pressed a hand to his chest to stop him before he came in closer and became a little too much to resist.

"You remember that I want to wait until I'm of an appropriate age or win some kind of award for my acting on Broadway to engage in sexual intercourse, right?" She blurted the words out and seemed to be anything but bothered by the straightforwardness. Finn, on the other hand, looked a bit awkward. Or, could it have been disappointment that laced across his face?

"What? But, we've been together like a year now."

"No… We dated. Broke up. Dated. Then broke up again. Now, we are dating again." She spoke matter-of-factly, as if that would convince the boy.

"Okay, but if you add all of that up we've dated a year." Finn quickly rose to his own defense in a very animated fashion.

"Even if we were to go by your logic, I said I would like to wait until I was 25 or, at least, until I graduate high school," Rachel cocked her eyebrow. It wasn't as if this was coming out of left field. She consistently and constantly spoke of her plans of the future to the boy. It made her question how much he actually paid attention to her.

"Yeah, but, Rach, come on. We're going to be together forever, so does it really matter if we wait or not?" Finn spoke confidently. The boy was sure that his argument would sway the girl. To him, it seemed to be a rock solid argument.

"Since we are going to spend forever together, waiting a few years until I am fully ready to handle the responsibilities that go along with sexual interco-"

"Can you stop calling it that?" Finn fidgeted.

"What..?" Rachel asked, slightly agitated.

"Say sex…the other word's too long and it wigs me out."

"Right…. Anyway. As I was saying, waiting a few years until I am fully ready to handle the responsibilities that go along with..." She tried not to roll her eyes. "...sex won't matter." Rachel crossed her legs on the bed and laid her hands on her lap as if she was at some type of debate club meeting.

"Rach, I just want to be with you." He placed his hand on her knee and she lifted it up, placing it onto his own knee. Rachel got up from the bed and started to walk around her room, attempting to look disinterested in the conversation.

"You are with me. You are there. I am here. Therefore, you are here with me. You are with me." Rachel tried to reason her way out of the conversation so they could end on a good note instead of their usual argument on the matter. Finn plopped himself back onto the bed with a bounce and sighed heavily.

"Do you really want my last time to be with her?" Finn blurted out the question without really thinking it through. Rachel stopped dead in her tracks as her jaw dropped. Realizing, without any help this time, that he had messed up, Finn shot up from the bed and quickly began his apologizing. "I didn't mean that! I'm so sorry, Rach! That wasn't fair." He moved in toward the girl who was becoming increasingly questioning._ 'Her'_, she thought. Finn and Quinn had dated last year for a bit. Had they slept together? Was Quinn the _'her'_ he was referring to? Or, was Santana his first and only sexual partner? The question played at the girl's curiosity as the giant continued to plea his apology. She almost didn't want to ask, but she just had to.

"Did you sleep with Quinn?" Finn hesitated at answering Rachel's question and, for her, that was already a bad sign.

"No." Finn's answer looked shaky, but Rachel wondered if she should question him again. He looked around and locked onto the clock. "Oh wow, it's late. I should actually get going before your dads realize I spent all this time here while they weren't home. I don't wanna get my beautiful girlfriend in trouble." Finn leaned in and gave Rachel a quick kiss on the cheek before rushing to grab his bag and leave. When Finn was at her bedroom doorway, he turned back and smiled at her. "I love you."

"I love you too," Rachel said instinctively. The words felt weird against her lips, meaningless almost. He seemed to be in all too much a hurry for her not to suspect that something had happened that he had decided to leave out of their conversation. She learned from the whole Santana-virginity issue that it may be best to just go to the source. Tomorrow she would just have to ask Quinn herself. Or, she could just pretend the question never came up. Knowing herself very well, it would be the former rather than the latter. Rachel sighed heavily as a light anxiety rose in her chest. The whole thing had left a sour taste in her mouth.


	3. Chapter 3: You Are Not Alone

**Summary:** Santana comes to terms with her situation after a two day daze. Understanding that she is now on her own, she comes up with a plan to take care of everything. Rachel is struggling with her relationship with Finn, but still hasnt asked Quinn if Fuinn sex never occurred. While attempting to clear her mind, Rachel finds out about Santana situation. She considers leaving it alone, but something touches the girl after a verbal "run-in" with the latina's mother. Rachel offers her help, but on what terms and will Santana even consider them?

**Note:** Hasnt been edited/reviewed yet

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><p>The past three weeks weren't exactly normal to say the least. Santana had lived at McKinley without leaving a blip on the weirdness radar of the faculty or her fellow peers. On the outside, Santana appeared to be the normal rich bitch that she usually was, but the behind the scenes tour of the Latina's life was quite different. She had lived in her little corner, backstage in the auditorium. It wasn't exactly luxurious, but it was all she really had. Santana had arranged this massive pile of stage supplies that no one used into the back corner where she knew no one would go snooping. It resembled somewhat of a cave of clutter, but it did the trick. She left it semi-hollow so she could fit in. It was her little cove. There was a little cot for her bed, a corner for her clothes, and another little corner for her other supplies. Though her stubbornness and inability to ask for help was extreme, one had to appreciate the girl's determination and will. Santana was going to do this on her own and she'd be damned if she had to ask for anyone's pity.<p>

The first two days were a bit of a daze. Santana was in denial. She kept expecting her mother to call her saying that her father had overreacted and that she should come home now. There was no call. In fact, she hadn't heard anything about them, since she was kicked out. It was obvious that Maria wasn't going to stand up for her daughter. That only proved to Santana that she was on her own and that counting on others just wasn't an option. Day three brought some clarity, or as much as one could find in a moment like this.

Boy Scouts weren't the only ones who were always prepared. Santana had a few tricks up her sleeve too, like the $800 stash that she kept in her locker. No, the girl wasn't some kind of drug dealer or anything. The money had been saved up over her high school career and used as an Alcohol fund, _because that's so much better_. The girl wasn't stupid though. She knew the money wouldn't last too long, so she made sure to start her job search.

To keep up appearances at school, Santana took $200 of the money and bought some new clothes from the mall, since she hadn't really been given the option to grab her clothes before her father kicked her out on her ass. (Thankfully, Santana didn't wear panties much so that took off at least fifty dollars from her expenses.) Dirty clothes wouldn't be that much trouble, since the cheerios had their own washer/dryer for their uniforms. Also, not having many clothes wouldn't be that big of an issue either. Hello? She wore her cheerios uniform every day. Safe.

The next two hundred dollars were used for a fake ID. Why? Well, Santana had heard about a job opening at Scandals, a local gay bar. It may have seemed risky to work at that kind of location, but, in reality, it wasn't. No one at McKinley would ever show up there and even if they did she highly doubted that they would try to shout her out. They would need to explain why THEY were there. Plus, the pay sounded amazing. She would be making bank and the hours wouldn't conflict with cheerios or school. Santana knew she'd be tired, but she also knew that she could handle it. It wasn't really like she had much of an option.

That left $400 for her to use the rest of the week. She started work on Tuesday and pay day would be on Friday, so she wasn't too stressed out about it. Mr. Schue letting her back into New Directions definitely helped her mind stay off her shitty situation. Slowly rebuilding her friendship with Brittany didn't hurt either.

Things didn't stay all sunshine happy for her for long, though. It all went to hell again on Thursday when Santana announced that she would be crossing over to the Trouble Tones, the new all-girl group that Mercedes was pushing off. She may have said that she was tired of being Rachel's backup singer, but that wasn't the whole story. The Trouble Tones rehearsed in the morning, instead of in the afternoon. Santana needed more time in the afternoon to just sleep and do homework before work. Her school work was already lagging and it had only been a few days. The Rachel complaint was a good cover, though, and it kept everyone out of her business. Most would wonder why she didn't just ask her team for help, but, after seeing the way that Finn reacted to the changing of teams, she knew what would happen. After she finished getting bitched out by frankenbitch, she would be some charity case for a few seconds and then everyone would forget about her, like they did with Sam. It was obvious that none of the teens were all that dependable. Who could really blame them though? It's a teen's job to be careless and carefree. She just didn't have the luxury at the moment.

No, Santana didn't have that luxury at all. She had to be prepared for everything and anything. The Westside Story rehearsals helped a lot. Everyone assumed that the girl was constantly rehearsing to upstage Rachel in the musical and they didn't really question why she always happened to be there. Mornings were a bit harder to explain though, so Santana made sure to set her alarm clock to 650am to avoid her early morning visitor, Ms. Rachel Berry. It made sleep pretty difficult, since Santana came in at 3 from work most nights. (Homeroom was becoming naptime for her because of it.)

This morning was going to be one of her tougher mornings, for sure. Last night was Scandal's Drag Queen Contest and that meant several things. Santana was expected to show up at 6 to help set up for the event, work the event (queens are such diva customers), and clean up until 5am. The huge pay day was definitely a motivator, but it would be the last big pay day she got from Scandals…

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><p>"VEN PUTO! YO SOY DE LIMA ADJACENT! TE VOY A DAR UNOS PUNTOS, PINCHE MALDITO!" Santana flew across the counter and tackled the Paula Abdul impersonator, who had just thrown his drink in her face, to the ground. It was 4:45 and Santana was just trying to clean up. <em>Paula<em> had been driving her up a wall with his drunken rudeness and constant pestering. Santana kept her cool all this time, but a drink to the face… That was where she drew the line. _Paula_ shoved the Latina diva off of him and she hit back against the bar counter. Gritting her teeth angrily, the fire in her eyes darkened as she reeled herself back in from the sudden rush of pain that she knew would bare a mark later on in the day. Losing her cool finally, she grabbed a chair and slammed it into the paying customer's side. Bill, the bar owner, rushed out to the confrontation and pulled Santana off of the now pleading drag queen.

"That's it, Lopez! I said no more bar fights!" he yelled out as he dragged the girl to the door.

"What the fuck? HE STARTED THAT SHIT, BILL! This is bullshit!" Santana squirmed and shoved Bill's hand away forcefully.

"I don't give a flying fuck. I warned you already. You're fired, kid. I can't have you scaring away my paying customers." Bill pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket and counted out her pay. He wasn't a bad guy, really he wasn't. This was a business first and he had to watch out for his clientele. Santana snatched the cash from his hand and grabbed her bag as she was being rushed toward the door.

"Whatever, dude. Fuck you. Good luck finding a bartender like me!" She made sure to flip him off with a big smirk that said one of the grandest fuck you's she had ever given.

Santana stormed down the alley behind the bar, her face laced with frustration. This was too much for even her to take. It just wasn't fair. All she needed was this one thing to work out, just one thing. It wasn't like she was asking for some miracle, or for her parents to take her back. No. She wasnt asking for Brittany to understand or for someone to notice that she was slowly drowning.

Santana was so lost in her utter frustration with her life that she didn't spot the random fallen branch on the floor that hid in the dark of the alley. The girl tripped and landed face first onto the ground. She laid there for a moment, feeling a rush of defeat just wash over her. It wasn't like Santana to get hit and stay down, but even she needed a moment this time. Gripping at the floor with her finger tips, she pushed herself up from the pavement. "ARE YOU KIDDING ME!" She yelled up at the sky as if someone was prepared to answer. Slamming her first down onto the ground with a force so hard that it actually broke the skin, Santana growled out and pushed herself up completely so she was now standing. "I GET IT! IM BEING PUNISHED!" She continued to yell at the sky with all her force. "I'VE BEEN A BITCH! I'VE DONE WRONG! I GET IT! JUST!..." Santana brought her bloody hand to her face and felt that feeling of breaking in her chest again, the feeling that was becoming all too familiar. "I'm not a bad person...," she whispered. This time it felt like she wouldn't be able to hold back though. "I'm a bitch, sure, but, fuck!, I'm just trying to survive high school! IS THAT SO WRONG!" She picked up her bag and all the stuff that had fallen down with her. "No one is completely innocent! I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE DOIGN SHIT TO MAKE IT THROUGH!" The tears welled up in her eyes and fell. They fell like a light rain that wasn't hard enough to create a clean slate but wasn't light enough for her not to feel a sense of defeat. "Forget it..." she whispered to herself and looked down from the sky.

Santana threw her bag over her shoulder and hugged her arms around her body, giving herself a moment to gather the pieces. She hated crying with a bloody passion and she refused to break down in an alley like some loser with no greater purpose. Santana noticed a hobo in the corner of her eye and growled at him viciously. "What the fuck are you lookin at?" She walked by him quickly and made the guy flinch something fierce.

It took her a few moments, but Santana had pulled herself together and was heading…home. She blamed the temporary loss of composure on her lack of sleep and refused to let herself think about it any further. Nothing good could come from dwelling on weak moments, she was sure of that. It took her all of 20 minutes to walk to McKinley. Glancing down at her watch, she saw that it was only 5am. It must have broken with the sudden fist slam that Santana had laid onto the pavement only minutes before. Santana didn't bother re-checking the time as she shuffled backstage and made her way to her room. The girl didn't even bother undressing or cleaning up the broken skin on her hand. There was no time for that, only time for sleep. Santana plopped herself down onto the cot and passed out almost instantly.

"Good Morning, Mrs Sadenwasser!" Rachel said cheerily to the teacher that passed her by on her way to the auditorium. It was 6:05 and she was late for her early rehearsal. Granted, no one was waiting for her. This was more of an appointment she had set with herself, partially to avoid the topic that had been wearing on her mind all this time. What was it? Fuinn. Rachel still hadn't gotten the needed bravery to approach Quinn and ask her about any relations that she may have had with Finn. She was afraid of the answer. By the way Finn acted, Rachel had a funny feeling that she really wouldn't like the answer. It wasn't as if the topic hadn't been brought up since then either. In fact, Finn had only gotten pushier about sex. No, he wasn't exactly forcing her into anything, but he was overwhelming her with cute gestures. Flowers. Chocolates. (She never ate them because she was convinced that Finn didn't remember that she was a vegan.) Teddy bears. Rachel had enough teddy bears to start her own damn store with.

The currently absent-minded diva pushed her way through the double doors of the auditorium and continued on her familiar path to the stage. The closer she got, the more she became aware of a certain noise. It was subtle, but her amazing hearing caught it. Rachel tilted her head in curiosity as she walked onto the stage and found herself following the noise. The closer she came to the source, the more familiar the noise became. It was snoring. It wasn't the kind of snoring that Finn made when he was asleep. This one was quieter and sounded more like it was exhaustion induced rather than customary.

Walking up to a pile of supplies in the corner of the backstage area, Rachel couldn't help but think that it was coming from it. Yes, it seemed ridiculous but the noise only got louder as she neared it. She pressed her ear against the pile of supplies and was surprised to hear that it really was coming from the area. Rachel guided her hand around the pile and walked around it until she came across something that seemed to look like an entrance. The diva actually questioned if she was dreaming until she stepped into the sectioned off area and saw Santana. If Santana was there, it definitely wasn't a dream.

Confusion filled the sectioned off space as Rachel's eyes scanned the area, taking note of the reminiscence of a living space. There were clothes in the corner, school books tossed around, a poster of Alanis Morisette on the false wall. Most importantly, Santana was sprawled out on the cot with what appeared to be a pair of bloody knuckles. Rachel isn't really sure what to make of the situation, but she does have some kind of reaction. Kneeling down, she presses two fingers to the other girl's pulse point and lets her breath go when a pulse is beating away. Rachel takes another look around and goes to wake Santana, but catches herself. She had no reason to get involved in whatever this was. Santana had chosen her team and had been a big part of the torment that had come her way since she began high school. Rachel stood up. There was no way she was going to assume anything and bring more torture onto herself.

As she stood up, her eyes fell onto a book. It was filled with words and, for some reason, piqued her curiosity. Picking up the book, she glanced over the letters and ran her finger tips over them.

…_It's rough. I still can't get over the fact that my own father kicked me out and for being me. Like what the fuck is that? I'm so angry. All I want to do is walk down the halls screaming, but I can't. I don't know why I thought I could trust anyone. Parents are no exception, especially when they're such huge homophobes. I'm not even sure about my sexuality. He didn't give me a chance to explain. For realz tho, I'm not as mad at him as I am at mami. That bitch just let him kick me out. I wonder if she even cares or if she misses me. I won't. I'm going to make something of myself and get the fuck out of Lima. When I do, I'll never come back to this damn cow town. It's not like there's anything here for me to come back to…_

Rachel stopped reading, feeling a rush of guilt come over her as she glanced down at Santana's body. The pieces came together in that moment and she knew. Santana was living here for sure. The reasons why she was kicked out seemed pretty clear, but she wasn't completely sure. There was no way she could ignore this now. It was obvious that she needed help. Rachel took a deep breath in and pressed her hand to Santana's back. "Santana.." She spoke wearily. Obviously, she had a little bit of fear running through her. This was Santana Lopez, of course. A little fear was more than understandable. The girl didn't budge so she ran her hand across her back. "Santana."

"Oh god…Britt. Please, not now. I have a headache," Santana raised her hand to shoo Rachel away and muttered the words into her pillow. The look on the diva's face was something that resembled a straight face in every way.

"Um... no… it's Rachel," she whispered and shook the Latina.

"Britt, seriously… Ugh fine, but I call bottom this time," she grumbled and grabbed onto Rachel's arm, pulling her on top of her. Rachel squealed and Santana finally opened her eyes. She pushed the shorter brunette off of her and shot up from the floor. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING MANHANDS!" Rachel hit the floor with an all too familiar thud.

"What was I doing! What were you doing!" Rachel got up from the floor, dusting herself off and adjusting her skirt. "Lower your voice, Santana! You need not alert every one of our presence." Santana was still dazed for her exhaustion and hadn't pieced together what had just happened. She was caught. She needed to think quickly and say something.

The realization of the situation hit her hard and she resorted to what came easiest: defensiveness and anger. "Out," she said with a look that would scare Zizes. Rachel's eyes widened from surprise, but she stood her ground.

"Santana, I can help you if you're going through a rough tim—"

"Stop talking," Santana interrupted her and spoke plainly. She walked closer to the girl and Rachel instinctively backed up toward the entrance. Right as she was about to open her mouth, Santana rose her hand. "Don't speak. You didn't see anything. You aint gon' say anything. Got it?" Rachel had seen Santana fiery pissed, but that was nothing compared to this.

"But, you can't—" Santana shoved Rachel backward and she looked at the taller brunette with a shocked expression. There was no way she was going to be getting through to Santana like this. She was too tired. Rachel just turned and rushed off. What would you do? The same. Though, Rachel Berry wasn't quitting, just merely retreating to gather herself.

The rest of the morning had gone on normally, or, rather, what she was actually paying attention to had seen to go on as usual. See, Rachel couldn't stop thinking about what had happened that morning. Yes, Santana was rude and had thrown her down on the ground. Yes, most people wouldn't blame her for just forgetting about the whole thing and moving on. The only problem was that Rachel couldn't ignore the hurt in her eyes. It was hard to see at first, but it was there. Rachel got a glimpse of it and she just couldn't find it in herself to let it go. It was almost haunting. Santana looked vulnerable. She knew it wasn't the girl's intent to let it show, but it was all too clear. Rachel had always assumed that Santana was the bitch that she is, because of some inner insecurity. Even with that in mind, she never thought that her situation could be this bad. But, what happened? What _really _happened? Rachel needed answer, needed to stick her nose where it didn't belong.

It was lunch time by now and Rachel had no intent on wasting her time. Instead of her usual afternoon practice, she took a little trip to the nurse's office. Marching into the room with a mission written all over her face, she walked up to the working nurse and cleared her throat. "Hello, Ms. Lewis," Rachel said with her usual professional tone. "Santana is feeling a little unwell," she continued and followed the hasty nurse as she thumbed through paperwork. "She wants me to call her parents, since she can't really leave the bathroom at the moment." Ms. Lewis cocked her eyebrow and turned her attention to Rachel.

"She can't come herself?" Rachel thought quickly of an answer and shook her head. There had been a stomach flu going around the school and she thought that would be her best tool for this operation.

"Well, I gather that it is possible. She may vomit on the way here, but that must be why you have cleaning supply," Rachel turned as if she were heading back to the bathroom. Ms. Lewis reached out for her and clung to her shoulder.

"Then again, if she isn't feeling well…" Rachel didn't let her finish before she took the number that Ms. Lewis was handing toward her and rushed to the phone.

As she dialed the numbers, Rachel couldn't help but to feel a little nervous. If Santana's parents were anything like the Latina, she was likely to be intimidated by the receiving voice on the other end of the call. The phone rang for what seemed to be an angst-filled eternity.

"Hola?" Maria answered the phone on the third ring and Rachel stayed quiet for a moment, not sure if the woman spoke English. "Hello…?"

"Oh…Good afternoon, Mrs. Lopez. I'm Rachel Berry, one of Santana's…acquaintances. I'm not quite su—"

"You're a friend of Santana's?" Her voice sounded desperate as she interrupted Rachel. "Is she okay? Has she been going to school? Where is she staying?" Rachel smiled a bit to herself. The woman seemed heavily concerned. Maybe the smoke had settled at the Lopez home and Santana just hadn't caught word.

"Well, Mrs. Lopez, she is fine, but she is staying in the auditorium. I'm not sure what transpired between you, Mr. Lopez, and Santana, but it seems like you wish for her to come home. I will be glad—"

"No…"

"No?..." Rachel sounded confused. "No to what, ma'am?"

"No, she can't come home. Her father has forbid her from coming home. She can't. But, tell me more about how she is? Does she have food?"

Rachel looked at the phone for a moment with her eyebrow cocked. She wasn't quite sure what to make of this phone call. She seemed like a concerned mother, but she didn't want her own daughter to come home.

"I don't understand… Why can't she come home?"

"Her father won't allow it. But, please, answer my question. I can't find anything about her from anyone else."

"Well, then I guess you should let her come home so you can find out," Rachel started to sound sarcastic.

"You don't understand and this is none of your concern. Just tell me how my daughter is," Maria returned with an angry tone, but it did nothing in the ways of intimidating Rachel. By now, the diva was a little too pissed off to care about intimidation.  
>"She is your daughter."<p>

"Listen here you litt—"

"NO! You listen, ma'am!" Rachel whispered angrily, trying not to catch the nurse's attention.

"Santana is your daughter and you let your husband kick her out of her home, your life. You obviously do not care enough about Santana's well-being to fight your husband on the issue. You don't deserve any information about her. You don't even deserve to be a mother. How can you abandon your daughter like that and act like everything is just peachy? Well, it isn't. You're not a mother. You're a selfish, stupid woman who deserves to be tortured by the thought that you have no idea where Santana is staying or even if she has enough to survive. I won't give you any information, ma'am. In fact, I hope this eats at you. Good day!" Rachel slammed the phone down with frustration. She was completely out of breath at this point. She wasn't just scolding Santana's mother at this point. She was scolding her own. Rachel was so frustrated and hurt by Maria's idiocy that she was nearly in tears. Realizing that she was being stared at, Rachel cleared her throat and walked out of the office.

"Um...Ms. Berry?" Ms. Lewis called out, but Rachel just finished storming out. She had some business to take care of.

Santana watched as Rachel stormed out of the nurse's office from the corner of her eye as she spoke to Coach Sylvester. She was tempted to follow the girl and warn her again to keep her mouth shut, but she was afraid of finding out that Rachel had decided to tell the whole school. Santana knew how much of a bitch she had been to Rachel. It wasn't completely incomprehensible that she would have the gall to tell everyone. The pint-sized diva was notoriously not above getting revenge. For a _good girl_, she played the same line Santana did. The only real difference was that Santana tended to sway more toward the _bad_ than the _good._ It really was all up to your perspective.

"Lopez!" Sue snapped her fingers and Santana refocused on the livid coach.

"I'm here!" She stood at attention and listened. These were the moments she questioned why she didn't just tell Sue off. _Look at this bitch...snapping at me like im some dog…esta loca…_

"Do you understand your orders?"

"Yes, yes. We need to find a flyer that can replace Quinn. Coach, I got it the first hundred times, but we've done the whole try out thing. Quinn's been at this crap for years. We can't just grab some noob and teach em to fly like Quinn." Santana hated to compliment anyone, especially Quinn, but this was true. The may be frenemies, but she had to give props where props were due. Quinn knew how to fly. You can't just replace talent like that. And, it wasn't as if she hadn't tried to get Quinn to re-join the cheerios. She won't. Even now that the girl had settled their issues, Quinn just wasn't coming back. Not now, at least.

"I didn't ask if you thought it was possible, Tits McGee. I asked if you understood the words that were coming out of my mouth or if I needed to hire a translator to translate it into loser lingo," Sue growled out. Santana almost retaliated, but she managed to keep her cool.

"Yes." Sue pushed past the cheerio and Santana was so tempted to just tackle the blond-haired tight ass that had been making her position as head cheerio complete hell.

The warning bell to be tardy rang and Santana glanced down the hall to see where Rachel had gone. She could see her rushing down the hall and considered following her, but if she was late to Schue's class again he was going to throw a bitch fight that she was all too against dealing with. Growling to herself, she walked down toward her classroom and watched as Rachel turned the corner of the hall.

Rachel rushed to her class and slid into the room only seconds before the bell rang. The surprised look on her teacher's face demonstrated just how timely Rachel usually was. She gave a fake smile and rushed toward an empty seat in the back. Usually she sat in the front, but this would do. It was actually better. Rachel needed to do something she never did: text in the middle of the class. She always made a point to tell Finn never to text her in the middle of a class. Having impeccable grades was part of Rachel Berry's plan to achieving success and distractions would pull away from that. This would be an exception.

**ashiningstarberry has signed into conference!talk**

**dapperjewishlawyer has signed into conference!talk**

**berry_leroy has signed into conference!talk**

**berry_leroy: You both need more professional emails.**

**ashiningstarberry: Good afternoon, daddy and dad.**

**dapperjewishlawyer: Sweetie? Aren't you in the middle of a class right now? Rachel Berry, you should know better.**

**berry_leroy: Oh, calm down, Hiram. Why are you text conferencing us, Rachel? Is everything okay, sweetie?**

**ashiningstarberry: I know daddy, I know. I am not fond of engaging in this kind of disobedience, but this is important.**

**berry_leroy: Oh, what's wrong?**

**ashiningstarberry: It's a long story…**

Rachel explained the entire situation to her fathers in what seemed to be an accumulation of 12 texts with a word limit of three hundred words each.

**berry_leroy: That is horrible…**

**dapperjewishlawyer: Yes, it is. But, sweetie, isn't this the girl that has caused you to come home in tears several times?**

She looked at the text and ran a finger over the words. It was true. Being quite the strong female, Rachel made a point to never let the bullying get to her but even she had moments of weakness.

**berry_leroy: Im surprised at you, Hiram! This girl is obviously a product of an unhealthy home environment. Rachel, I'm proud of you for wanting to help this girl, but how can we help?**

**dapperjewishlawyer: Alert the school, of course. This must be taken up with the authorities.**

**ashiningstarberry: No.**

She wasn't sure what she could do to help Santana, but she knew that wasn't it. Rachel had done a research paper on foster homes and how teenagers ended up there for her sociology class. She knew what would happen to Santana and it seemed like it would cause more harm than assistance.

**ashiningstarberry: May she stay with us? I know Santana hasn't been the nicest person to me, but it isn't as if I hadn't retaliated against her in my own way. I am no more innocent than she is. She needs my help. I know why her parents kicked her out. She is going to need someone. She is going to need Glee Club.**

**berry_leroy: Why was she kicked out?**

**ashiningstarberry: I ran across her journal when I found her and I couldn't help but read a page.**

**dapperjewishlawyer: RACHEL BERRY!**

**berry_leroy: Oh, because you've never done anything like that.**

**dapperjewishlawyer: …Continue.**

Rachel rolled her eyes at the text. Even when they were having a serious conversation, the two couldn't help but to bicker at each other. They loved each other, that was obvious, but it didn't keep them from having little banters here and there.

**ashiningstarberry: I think Santana is a lesbian. Our school isn't very excepting. Kurt was threatened by Dave for being homosexual. Santana would be ripped apart. This is why everything that I tell you must be kept secret.**

**dapperjewishlawyer: We'll sue!**

**berry_leroy: She said it must be kept secret.**

**ashiningstarberry: Yes, daddy. Secret. **

**berry_leroy: That doesn't answer the question of how we're going to help.**

**ashiningstarberry: Well…**

Rachel went through the whole thing with her fathers. It was a pretty elaborate for something that had been thrown together in a matter of seconds. In fact, there was only about ten minutes left of the class period by the time they had finished working out the details.

**berry_leroy: Okay so we will be taking the rest of the day off to get started. I'm sure we'll finish on time.**

**dapperjewishlawyer: You just have to convince her that it is a good idea.**

**ashiningstarberry: Im very persuasive, daddy. Never underestimate Rachel Barbra Berry! Bye daddys!**

**ashiningstarberry signed out**

Rachel didn't really give her fathers a chance to say their farewells but she knew they would understand. She packed her bag quietly, seeing that there were now only two minutes of class left. She wasn't sure why she was rushing exactly. The plan couldn't be put into place on her part just yet. The school day had to end and then she would have to wait for Santana to get out of her cheerio practice. This was going to be a nerve-racking rest of the day. Rachel always was the impatient one. At least she was thinking about Finn and Quinn for once.

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><p>"Everywhere I'm turning…" Santana gripped onto the mic, belting out her first note. Her eyes closed as she let her emotions swell in herself and slowly rise to her vocal chords. "…nothing seems complete. I stand up and I'm searching for the better part of me. I hang my head from sorrow. State of humanity, I wear it on my shoulders." She slid one of her hands from the mic to her chest slowly, not realizing that Rachel had walked into the auditorium. "Gotta find the strength in me…" Squeezing her eyes even tighter, Santana shot her arm that held a fist to her chest into the air and hit an impressive note even for her. "…cause I am a superwoman! Yes I am!" Letting her hand fall, she ran it up the mic stand that held her mic. "Even when I'm a mess, I still put on a vest with an S on my chest. OH YES! IM A SUPERWOMAN!" Her eyes finally opened and she nearly choked from the speedy stop she made while she was singing. Santana looked at Rachel quietly for a moment before actually finding words to say. "What, dwarf? Did you come here to tell me who you told? Wanna get your kicks in while you think Im down? I really would like to see you try, man-hands. It's been a while since I ripped anyone apart," Santana said with her usual amount of venom. Rachel just walked toward the stage with her hands laced together in front of her waist. Her words just didn't have the sting they usually had over her. Climbing the steps, she walked up to Santana and crossed her arms over her chest in an almost apologetic manner.<p>

"I didn't tell the whole school, Santana. I don't plan on doing that either," she said in a very calm voice.

Santana let go of the mic and turned toward Rachel and put one of her hands on her hip. "So, then what? Blackmail?"

Rachel just shook her head. "Just help."

"Well, Berry. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one of the losers. When you get someone to help you so you won't spread information about them, it's called blackmail."

"No. I mean I just want to help you."

Santana stepped toward Rachel fire in her eyes that the shorter brunette swore would burn through her. "I don't need your damn pity. I'm not a fucking charity case, treasure trail. I can handle myself."

"It's not pity, Santana… just help," Rachel tried to sound as comforting as possible.

"I don't need that either," Santana walked past Rachel and headed to the curtain on the stage.

"Oh. So, you are going to live backstage? What are you going to do if someone finds you? What then Santana?" Rachel followed behind Santana, refusing to give up so easily.

The Latina walked through the curtain and turned back when she realized that Rachel was still following her. "Look, Berry. I'm not stupid. I don't fucking trust you. There isn't a damn moment you don't have some kind of ulterior motive, so no fucking thank you. I'll worry about all that when it comes up." Santana turned back around so she could finish walking toward her room. "It's not like they kicked me out. I left. I can go back when I want," she lied.

Rachel sighed and continued to walk after the girl. "Santana, I called your home. I know that your father kicked you out."

All the blood from her face drained from her face, leaving a paler complexion. She knew now. Santana was convinced that Rachel knew about her and Brittany. This made everything worse. Rachel had more on her than she was hoping. "Did they tell you why?" She asked without turning around.

The girl considered telling the truth and saying that she knew about the Latina and Brittany, but that didn't seem like a good idea. It was obvious that Santana wasn't comfortable with it and that she needed to still figure some things out. "No. She just started yelling in Spanish after I found out that you were removed from your home." There was a chuckle that escaped Santana's lips and held a hint of relief. She was safe yet again. "Even if she did, I wouldn't tell anyone. I just want to help you, Santana. I don't want to blackmail you or get revenge. I just want to help you. I can't just allow you to live like this. We hate each other, but I just can't allow it to happen. That's not pity."

Santana was getting frustrated now. She was convinced that this was all a rouge to help whatever plan Rachel had get set into place. This was just an elaborate game to torture the girl. She turned around and practically growled at her. "Oh, you wanna help? You expect me to believe that you want to help me? I've tortured your entire high school existence, I've relished in your public humiliation, I call you out on your diva bullshit, I screwed Finn's brains out—"

"I get it," Rachel said, obviously getting upset.

"Look at you. You're getting so pissed right now. But, yes, you want to help me. Totes believable. Oh come on, Berry. Let's hear why you wanna help me. The real reason," Santana was breathing heavily at this point. The screaming had worn her out a bit, since she was still running on only several minutes of sleep.

"I know what it's like…" Rachel fidgeted a bit as she spoke. "I know what it's like to have a parent virtually throw you away, to just give you up, to say that they don't want you—"

"Berry, I get it," Santana said with a bit of a softer tone. She had forgotten all about the issues with Shelby. Rachel had a little bit of an idea of what she was going through, but, unlike her, she didn't have a set of parents to fall back on.

"Sorry…" Rachel knew her rambling got worse when she was nervous and didn't mean to intentionally drone on about the issue. "No one should have to go through that alone.

"What makes you think I'm alon—"The look on Rachel's face stopped Santana from finishing her sentence. It was a pretty dumb question to ask while she was trying to escape to the room she had built in the backstage of her high school. "I can take care of myself. I've done it all this time."

"I don't doubt that. Most teens would have just lost it. I know you can take care of yourself, but you shouldn't have to." Santana looked down at the ground and rubbed her arm, feeling uncomfortable with the level of vulnerability she had in this situation. "Just come stay with my family and I."

"What? Hell no. HELL NO!" Santana practically laughed at Rachel. The idea of living with Rachel Berry was just, well, laughable. Santana and Rachel under the same roof. It was a recipe for disaster.

"Oh, because you have so many other options?" Santana's laughter stopped instantly. It was true. She didn't really have a choice. For the most part, it was a better option than living backstage.

"Whatever, Berry. You don't even know if your dads will take me in. They know some of the crap I've done to you, I'm sure." There is no way that any sane parent would allow their daughter's sworn enemy to live in the same household. It just wouldn't fly. They would take one look at her and shoo her away. She'd be damned if she would get kicked out of two households in one month.

"I already asked them." Santana looked at Rachel with a confused expression. Why had she done that? She couldn't understand why Rachel was going out of her way to try to help her. There had to be a catch or some angle she was missing. "We worked everything out. You will stay in my room with me until they fix another room for you. They said you can stay as long as you need. The only thing you would have to do—"

"Catch. I knew there would be a catch." Rachel rolled her eyes at Santana's skepticism. She understands that the girl had been hurt, but this whole interrupting her while she is speaking thing was getting annoying.

"As I was saying, the only thing you would have to do is keep your grades up, talk to one of them about the situation, and do split chores with me."

"I'm not going to be your fucking maid." Santana assumed she meant that she would be doing all of the chores, but she was wrong. There didn't seem to be any sign of abuse of power over the girl so far.

"I said split," Rachel added in a monotone voice, almost expecting Santana to interrupt her now.

"Wait… so you planned all this crap without even coming to me first?" _Because that's not creepy at all_, Santana thought to herself and looked at Rachel.

"Yes, I knew you would eventually have to agree," she spoke plainly as if this was no challenge at all.

"I fucking hate when you do crap like that…"

"I hate when you use vulgarity. But would you let me finish?"

"Fine…"

"No one will have to know. You can continue to call me man-hands and etc., but you can't do it in my home. That's my one sanctuary. Respect for my fathers is a must. "

"That all sounds fucking peachy, but how can I know that I can trust you?"

"Do you have a choice?" Santana dwelled on the word. Did she have a choice? Well, she did. She could go on living backstage and trying to keep a job, while going to school. That was a choice and it was a choice that's he was really considering. But, wasn't this a better offer? What did she really have to lose at this point?

"…Fine." Santana sounded unsure and she was, but this seemed to be the better choice. "Help me get my shit…" She turned and walked into her 'room.'

"Must you curse…" Rachel followed behind her and waited for instructions on how she should assist.

"I fucking must," Santana said to annoy the girl. She gestured for Rachel to just start putting everything into anything that looked like it could serve as some kind of container. The diva did so without any questions or complaints. Santana looked over at her and tried to muster up what's he needed to express her gratitude. It was hard, but it only seemed right. She wasn't making this a big deal and she wasn't giving her a hard time, so maybe a 'thank you' was necessary. Santana cleared her throat.

"Hey…so…" Rachel looked over at Santana as she threw some clothes into a crate that was serving as a table. "I just wanted to—"

"You don't have to," Rachel said and picked up the crate. "Like I said, I don't expect anything in return."

That was refreshing. Santana was so used to people expecting her to step out of her comfort zone for them. Her parents. Brittany. And, yet, here was Rachel who was seriously saving her ass, but she didn't expect anything in return. Santana smiled to herself and grabbed a box with most of her stuff in it.


	4. Chapter 4: You Are More

**SUMMARY:** Rachel and Santana drive home with all of Santana's things. They bond over a surprising song that pops up on Rachel's CD and laugh a bit. When they pass Santana's house, Rachel does her best to assure the girl that she isn't in the wrong. Santana meets the Berry dads and Hiram is very much in her face, overwhelming her a bit. Leroy gets her to open up and Pezberry gets a little closer than they expected.

**NOTE:** Hasn't been reviewed yet.

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><p>Awkward silence. After getting Santana's stuff into the purple PT cruiser with gold accents, a serious teasing about said car, an argument about Rachel's driving ability, and a stop at the local Bed, Bath, and Beyond for some extra pillows, that was pretty much what the car ride was filled with. They weren't upset with each other. Not at all. For Santana, the whole living with the Berrys thing was setting in. She was nervous, though she'd be damned before she ever admitted it. These were the fathers of the girl who had received the butt-end of her torturous reign as ⅓ of the Unholy Trinity. Santana couldn't help but half-expect them to kick her out of the house. Rachel had said that they were fine with it, but a part of her still found it hard to believe. Santana leaned her head against the glass and sighed against it, catching Rachel's attention.<p>

Rachel was a bit uneasy about the transition of the mood. Yes, the bickering was a little tiring, but, at least, they were talking and, to be completely honest, she didn't mind the challenge. Now that Santana was quiet, however, things felt highly uncomfortable. She glanced over at the girl who looked out of the car window and she couldn't help but to feel sorry. Rachel wasn't sorry for her. Even mentally, she was afraid to pity Santana in any way because the latina would hate it, but she was sorry that she hadn't noticed her suffering before. Being the daughter of two gay fathers, she felt like she should have noticed. Rachel looked over at Santana again and watched as the girl sat up a little when she saw her 'home'. The taller brunette locked onto the house and tried to look inside, but she couldn't see anything. Rachel watched her shoulders slump down with disappointment as she turned in her seat. "They don't deserve you as their daughter, Santana."

Santana shot her eyes over to Rachel and cocked her eyebrow with a scoff as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Whatever," she spat out. She didn't even have the composure to mutter something sarcastic or witty.

"No, Santana. They don't deserve you. You are an intelligent, strong, talented and beautiful young woman. You and Kurt are probably my only competition in Glee Club. In fact, I won't admit this again so listen closely, I am convinced that, if you had received as much vocal training as I have, you would probably have gotten a good half of my solos." Rachel spoke without taking her eyes off the road, but gave a small grin at her own confidence. If she had picked up anything while talking to Santana this past day, it was that she appreciated cockiness and rivalry in doses. The taller brunette looked toward her and glared at her, but she couldn't really hide the smirk on her face. When Rachel did look over at her and caught sight of Santana's eyes, they both let out a short chuckle.

"If you're going to hit on me, at least try to be subtle, Berry," Santana joked and put her elbow on the car door so she could lean her head on her palm. Rachel sat up and held onto the steering wheel a little tighter than she already was. The comment shouldn't have made her chest tighten the way it did. It left her a bit confused by her own reaction as she scrambled for a response. "And change the damn song before I kill myself," she added before Rachel could respond to the first joke. Quietly, she let out a sigh of relief and changed the song on her Broadway CD.

When the song started to play throughout the car, Santana sat up and cocked her eyebrow at the radio. "You have the _In the Heights_ soundtrack?" She glanced over at Rachel with an impressed look on her face. Sure, Rachel was a Broadway fanatic and Santana was well-aware of that fact, but this was something she just didn't expect. _In the Heights_ was a Broadway musical based on the heavily Dominican neighborhood of Washington Heights in New York, where some of Santana's relatives lived. It was a heavily Spanish-speaking neighborhood, so, obviously, the musical had a lot of Spanish and culture references. Santana didn't think that someone like Rachel would be able to keep up.

"Yes, of course. I love their soundtrack. It is very lively and, though I do find it difficult to follow a lot of the context behind the songs, I love the fluidity of the music." Rachel continued to rant on for a good three minutes before Santana reached over to restart the song.

"Berry, hush. I'm about to teach you something," Santana said casually as she got lost in the instrumental introduction. Rachel looked over at Santana and smiled at the fact that, for once, Santana was quieting her in a way that wasn't blatantly rude. The Latina sat back and paused the song, looking over at Rachel.

"Basically, these four women are at the Beauty salon. For us latinas, that's like gossip central. So, in this song, they start gossiping about different people in the neighborhood. It isn't malicious. They're just nosy. When they say no me digas, it's kinda like they're saying no way or say what? Literally it means like... don't tell me that...but it doesn't make sense that way when you translate it. Anyway...hush and listen." Rachel laughed and shook her head.

"Did Santana Lopez just tell me to 'hush' so she can listen to a Broadway so-" Rachel stopped in the middle of her question when Santana shot her a glare and pressed play. Obviously, this was the equivalent of interrupting Rachel while she was listening to Barbra Streisand.

"Gorgeous! Linda! Tell me something I don't know! Vieja! Sucia! Cabrona! Tell me something I don't know! A little off the top! A little off the side! A little bit of news you've heard around the barrio! Tell me something I don't know!" Santana sang out and managed to move to the salsa beat even though she was sitting and her feet really didn't have space to move. It was therapeutic to just listen to the music. One of the things that she had missed was the way salsa music used to blast through her house when it was cleaning day. She hated it then, but, now that she couldn't hear it anymore, it left her with a huge sense of nostalgia. Santana let her thoughts focus on the lyrics, instead of torturing herself. Rachel watched the girl and laughed, enjoying watching Santana just let loose.

"Bueno," Rachel started and Santana looked up at her, willing to silence herself just to see if Rachel wasn't bullshitting about knowing the musical. "You didn't hear it from me, but some little birdie told me Usnavi had sex with Yolanda!" Santana would be lying if she said she wasn't impressed with the way Rachel could fake the accent. Sure, they had started West Side Story rehearsals, but this was a spur of the moment semi-jam session and she was definitely holding her own

"No me diga!" Santana feigned a surprised look and Rachel let out that five year old laugh at her facial expression. When she started to laugh, Santana followed close behind. It was cathartic to just let loose and forget about their pseudo-rivalry. Rachel wasn't thinking about Finn and Quinn. Santana wasn't thinking about her parents. They were just two glee clubbers belting out randomly like they had a tendency to do.

The two girls were still laughing when Rachel drove into the parking lot and parked the car. When Santana realized where they were, her laugh caught in her throat and nearly made her choke. In that moment of exposure, Rachel saw the nerves that were written on her face and she reached over to place her hand on Santana's hand that was on her own knee. "You really don't have to be nervous, Santana... They know about the teasing, but they also know about what you're going through. They understand. They just want to make sure that you have somewhere to call home, okay?" Santana wasn't really in the position to not take comfort in Rachel's words, to be honest. She wanted to come back with a snarky remark or a joke that would pull her out of this vulnerable state, but the comfort was what she needed. She looked over at Rachel and nodded slightly, choosing to stay silent. Santana hoped that Rachel wouldn't take the opportunity to mock her sensitivity in the situation and she didn't. The diva pulled her hand back, feeling an odd tingling in her fingertips.

The girls got out of the car and Santana couldn't help but to shake her head at the flamboyant car again. It was a sight that she didn't see herself getting used to any time soon. Santana opened the trunk and grabbed the bulk of her stuff so Rachel wouldn't have to carry much. When they had loaded themselves up, Rachel led the way to the door and Santana followed close by like a child. Rachel wanted to comment on it, but chose not to. She didn't want to send Santana running or piss her off.

When the doors opened, Santana looked up to the two gentlemen that stood before them. They quickly scrambled to take the stuff from Rachel and Santana, so they could usher the girls into the house.

"This wasn't the girl I was expecting. I thought it was the Marilyn Monroe-looking, soft voice blonde that dated Finn," Hiram said and received a nudge to the ribs by Leroy.

"No," Leroy said and looked over Santana with a comforting smile. "She's the pretty brunette with the booming voice." Santana gave an awkward laugh at the already bickering couple, while Rachel glared at Leroy. "...the other pretty brunette with the booming voice." Leroy added quickly when he saw the look on Rachel's face. The diva rolled her eyes and laughed at his late attempt to rectify the situation.

"I say we should get the awkward conversation out of the way now at once, so we don't have to keep tip-toeing around it," Hiram interrupted everyone and caught everypne's attention. Santana's heart sunk and a little hint of fear crept up her spine. Hiram took a step closer to her with intense eyes that made Santana prepare comebacks and a storm out. "First of all, none of this Mr. Berry stuff. You can call me Hiram and him Leroy, or dad, but I hardly think you'll be comfortable with that. Second, this is your home now. You make yourself at home. Do you understand?" Santana looked over at Rachel, who was smiling, and then directed her sight back to Hiram with a nod. Before she could say anything, he continued. "Third, we are well-aware of the bullying between you and Rachel. We're not going to judge you for it. Fourth, you'll be sharing a room with Rachel for now until we can get your room fixed up. We're calling the decorator and contractor tomorrow-"

"-You don't have to-" Hiram rose his hand slightly to stop Santana from continuing.

"Like I said, this is your home. You're a young woman and you will need your space. Now, we tried to get your clothes from your parents, but your father is a little-"

"Hiram!" Leroy belted out. He and Rachel both gave Hiram a death glare. Santana swore she saw the family resemblance in that moment.

"I was going to say rude... Anywho, since tomorrow is Saturday, you and Rachel can go to the mall and we'll work on getting you a wardrobe-" Hiram stopped when he heard a ding coming from his kitchen. "MY GARLIC BREAD!" His eyes widened as he rushed off toward the kitchen, leaving Santana with an overwhelmed look on her face. Leroy looked down at Rachel and she took it as a sign to go help her father. She looked over at Santana and hesitantly nodded, turning on her heel to walk over to the kitchen. Of course, Rachel wasn't going to pass up an opportunity to eavesdrop, so she stayed close to the entrance of the hallway that they stood in so she could hear everything.

Leroy walked closer to Santana with his arms crossed and concern in his eyes. "Overwhelmed?" Santana just nodded, not really knowing how to interact with him. Leroy nodded and stepped in a little closer. "Do you mind if we sit and talk for a moment?" She wasn't really in a position to say no, so she wasn't sure why he just didn't tell her to sit down. Santana didn't question it. She just followed him into the living room and sat on the couch, unaware that Rachel had sneaked in closer to hear. Leroy sat next to Santana and looked over at her. "My parents kicked me out of my house when I was about your age."

Rachel scrunched up her eyebrows in confusion. She had no idea that her grandparents had done such a thing. They seemed to be so civil from the little she remembered about them. Shaking her head, she focused back on the two of them. Peeking out just the slightest bit, she couldn't help but want to reach out and join her father in telling Santana that everything would be okay.

Santana only looked over at him in silence. "It makes you feel...worthless. Like, you disappointed them and ruined their dreams for you." Santana felt a tugging at her heart as he spoke, but she refused to show it. She didn't know them well enough. "These were the people that were supposed to stick with you through everything, thick and thin. Yet, here they are turning on you, abandoning you." Leroy's voice choked up and Santana's eyes watered. He hit every note. That was it. Everything he said was true. She didn't want to admit that she wanted them, needed them, but that was what she felt. "I felt so lost and...hopeless and..." Leroy took a deep breath in as a tear managed to work its way down his cheek and cleared his throat. He put his hand over Santana's and looked into the girl's eyes. "You, young lady, are not alone. You are not wrong. You are not a disappoint. You, Santana, are perfect just the way you are and, if your parents can't see that, they don't deserve to see you grow up to be the magnificent woman I just know, feel that you will become." Santana felt the water build up in her eyes, but she still fought them. She couldn't break down. She just couldn't. Not here. Not with Rachel in the next room.

Rachel watched the sight and she felt her heart break. She knew Santana was in a bad situation, but she had no idea it was this bad. She couldn't imagine her fathers treating her that way, making her feel that way. It wasn't fair. Her sadness was overtaken by anger. She would do anything to give Maria another piece of her mind. When she saw the tears in Santana's eyes, however, she refocused. Rachel could feel her own tears build up, sympathizing with the girl. She could feel Santana in that moment and she'd give anything to fix it, though she wasn't exactly sure why it touched her so much.

"You..." Leroy put his hand on her cheek and looked into her eyes. "...are in a safe place, Santana. You can be yourself here and no one will ever judge you. We will love you and care for you like you were our own. Come here," he said with all the care a father should have as he pulled her into his arms. Santana was shocked by the way she clung to him and how tightly she embraced him. She couldn't hold anything back anymore. She sobbed full force into his shoulder and, though her back ached from the embrace, she only squeezed tighter.

"T-thank you.." She mumbled out in between sobs. "T-thank you...so m-much...Thank you.." Santana repeated herself over and over again, feeling like she actually had someone who cared, truly cared. It was a rushed sense of home, but, god, she needed it so badly. Leroy rubbed the girl's upper back and rocked her slightly. Rachel debated on whether she should walk into the room or walk away, not wanting to upset Santana. She felt her father turn to look at her and she knew what he expected of her. Rachel walked out from hiding behind the wall with her arms over her lap and her eyes reddened with tears as well. As she walked over, Santana looked up and saw Rachel. She felt a sense of shame until her eyes locked with Rachel's and saw that she was crying too. It didn't make sense, but, when the girl got down on her knees in front of her, she didn't protest. Santana and Rachel wrapped their arms around each other, sobbing in unison. Santana, because she finally felt like she could be herself, herself completely. Rachel, because felt the girl's pain and felt so horrible about not noticing it before. Leroy kissed the tops of both their heads.

"I'm going to help your father finish setting up for dinner. You girls take your time to settle and clean yourselves up," he spoke softly. The girls were lost in their embrace but they heard him, though they did nothing to acknowledge that he was walking out of the room.

A good three minutes had passed before Santana realized that she was hugging Rachel Berry. Yes, she knew that she was hugging Rachel. She hadn't suddenly become stupid, but this was... Rachel Berry. Nobody had gotten to see passed the wall and, now that somebody had, it was her. She felt more vulnerable than she cared to in that moment, or, rather, she expected to. Surprisingly enough, she didn't seem to care. Santana pulled away from the hug slowly and subtly, as to not frighten the girl. For some reason, that mattered to Santana now. Rachel looked into her eyes and felt her breath hitch a bit at the lack of distance before she moved to sit on the couch next to her. She rubbed at her eyes and Santana followed suit; both in silence.

"Do you feel better?" Rachel looked over at Santana with sincerity written on her face.

"My eyes sting like a mother-"

"SANTANA!" Rachel belted out before Santana could finish. The taller brunette chuckled and wiped at her eyes, Rachel joined in the laugh seconds later.

"God, you're incorrigible," she shook her head as she straightened out her skirt. Santana still looked over at her and she wasn't even sure where to begin when it came to explaining her gratitude.

"Hey, thank-"

"You don't have to thank me. I already discussed this with you, Santana," Rachel spoke plainly as she finished wiping at her eyes. Santana reached over and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and Rachel's heart raced.

"Thank you, Rae." Santana spoke even though she knew she didn't have to. She was giving her gratitude from the bottom of her heart without any shame. After everything she had just handed over, it felt more than right to give her some simple words. Rachel turned toward her and scrunched up her eyebrows with a small smile creeping onto her face.

"Rae?...What? No name-calling?" Rachel teased and Santana rolled her eyes as she got up from the couch.

"Screw you, dwarf," Santana turned to let the words fall from her lips as she walked toward the kitchen. Rachel gave a cheesy smile and followed behind her.

"I prefer Rae," she said when she finally caught up. Rachel reaches out for Santana's arm and stops her. "You do know that you're more than the choices you've made... You're more than what you think," she desperately added. "It's not about what you've done. No one deserves this." Santana just looked at Rachel and she wasn't sure how to process the expression in her eyes. "I just wanted to say that," Rachel added quickly and walked into the kitchen, leaving Santana slightly confused and with a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach. Butterflies? Ha...fuck no.

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><p><strong>SNEAK PEEK TO CHAPTER 5:<strong> Rachel and Santana get really acquainted with each others' morning routines. Information is accidentally revealed. Santana pisses off the wrong person and is outted at school. Two of the glee guys come to Rachel and Santana's rescue and surprise everyone.


End file.
